


A C A H D I A

by Kross



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Guildwars2, Other, Sylvari
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 01:25:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kross/pseuds/Kross
Summary: The Sylvari are still ever so new to the lands of Tyria, the first awakened within living memory. One such sylvari has a journey ahead of her, but has many steps to go before she can reach it. Acahdia is a blossom of the Night, and a child of the Pale Tree - and this is her story.





	1. PROLOGUE - THE DREAM

Stepping in to the warm morning light, She lifts her head up to look at faces unfamiliar. Wiry, soft vines fall around her like the beams of sun, and bright eyes bounce from unintelligible face to face. The sound of laughter and the feeling of joy sits warm within her chest, gentle hands take hers and pull her into loving arms and bright-eyed saplings just like her. Family. Joy. Belonging.

This was **Dawn**.

Dawn demands interaction. Dawn demands the pleasing of others. Dawn brings the refreshing new day in. The probability of new things, of being able to start over and try again the next day. Life as a Dawn is one filled with people and warm hands and bodies and delight. Friendships are easy, as a Dawn. Loving is even easier. One wants to love everyone, as a Dawn. How can one not? People are lovely, kind and caring. There are so many different types of people too! Charr, Asura, Humans, Norn- but even beyond them. Quaggan, Hylek, Grawl, Ogres, Skritt, Tengu, the illusive Largos, Centaurs, Krait, Kodan, and Dredge! So Many to meet and people to know and friends to make. What life is fulfilled without friends? One cannot live life without friends.

Untill, of course, friends betray you. Because friends will betray you. They will hurt you - whether they mean it or not. Lovers are even worse. She cares too much for one person to bear, her heart on a sleeve and oh so easily broken and charred. How could she have known? She just wanted to trust and give and love. 

But of course, as all things, it is not meant to be. 

The Lesson of **Dawn** : _Love, but do not love carelessly. For those with darkened hearts that see your purest love will darken your heart too._

_All things have a right to grow. The blossom is brother to the weed._

_Never leave a wrong to ripen into evil or sorrow._

* * *

The sunlight is so much harsher, this time. She stumbles into the world, surrounded by shouts, laughter loud cheers. Determination fills her chest. She will not be so soft, this time. No- her bark will be hard and she will be strong. Her brothers and sisters surround her with just as much love as before, but theres something else to them too- Strength. Stubbornness. Brotherhood. 

This was **Noon**.

Noon is not a place for those with weak hearts, or stomachs. Noon is for those who are strong and aim to be strong. Strength, of course, shows itself in many different ways; Of heart, of mind, but Noon values the strength of body and spirit. Clashing weapons and grand feats, brawling rings and fantastical stories, trophies of battle one has won and proclamations of the battles one will win. Noon is a place for victory. Noon is BORN for victory. For accomplishment. For being the sturdy tree when the others cannot be. 

But she is no sturdy tree. She throws herself against challenges she cannot meet, she throws herself into battles she cannot win. She is not a warrior- but she forces herself to become one. How else can she be noon? Emotions are locked tight, masks are made better than any other could imagine. One cannot be weak. Noon is not weak. Noon is strong and powerful and a victor.

And Noon falls gloriously in battle, many a foe felled to her blade.

The Lesson of **Noon** : _Victory comes to those who work for it. Not every sylvari is a warrior, but if you have to be- become one. Stand for what you believe in, and protect your own heart- for nobody else will._

_Act with wisdom, but act._ _  
_ _Do not fear difficulty. Hard ground makes stronger roots._

* * *

No sun shone now, the sky stained purples and pinks with the vanishing light on the horizon. Her step is careful, cautious, but curious. The world is quieter this time- more peaceful. The faces around her are calm and gentle and inquisitive. She can hear questions, but she doesn't remember what they are. A hand takes hers and they walk together, listening and watching the new world with wide eyes and curiosity- but with caution. This is quieter than Noon. These souls are quiet, curious, seekers. 

This is **Dusk**.

A dusk lit world means sleeping in, but it means that evenings are free for the pursuit of knowledge. Sure, fighting is one thing, and loving is another - but having a strong mind and understanding the world and as many things as one can is the only way one can truly prepare for life. Exploring is incredibly important- and documenting is even more so. Read wherever one can, and learn as much as one can.

A Dusk wanders- and so she does. She wanders the world- as much of Tyria as she can consume. Traveling from the jungles of Caledon to the forests of Kryta, to the Shiverpeak mountains, to the warmer reaches of the lands of Ascalon. To the swampy edges to the south, the waters dark with secrets and the distant lands churning with coming chaos. She joins the Priory, a group of Scholars dressed in blue and grey and white. She trusts them, despite everything. She spends her days as Dusk learning and absorbing and understanding things she never would think she would understand. Dusk is promising.

But knowledge demands sacrifice, and there are people in the world who do not want things known. She will not give up her knowledge, though. Her knowledge is hers and she earned it - better than any Noon ever earned Victory or better than any Dawn who earned Love. Knowledge demands to be Known, and heard and shared. Knowledge is powerful. 

Knowledge is _dangerous_.

Knowledge can get you killed.

Lesson of **Dusk** : _Not all knowledge is meant to be known or shared, but seek it anyway; because even the darkest secrets will keep you safe from anothers._

_Live life well and fully, and waste nothing._

_From the smallest blade of grass to the largest mountain, where life goes—so, too, should you._

* * *

The sky is black now, and this is nothing as she has ever experienced. Thrust into the world- there are faces around her now, but not ones like before. She can see them clearly - a sylvari woman with orange fronds and green cheeks and a firm hand, helping her to her feet. There's excited, nervous chatter around her- other confused and newly awakened sylvari.

“Where--” Her voice cracks, unused and shy and new. Her cheeks glow, “..Is this the Dream?” 

The orange sylvari smiles. “No. Welcome to Tyria, little sister. What's your name?”

She hesitates.

This was **Night**.

“My name is **Acahdia**.”

_The only lasting peace is the peace within your own soul._


	2. CHAPTER I - AWAKENING

Emerging into Tyria was far different than the Dream ever could have prepared her for. While Dawn, Noon and Dusk has their own special traits, Night is a shy and elusive cycle- one that prefers to keep to itself. For Acahdia, that fits her just fine. The Dream was stressful, leaving a pit of worry in her stomach (Did she learn enough? Is she prepared? What if she can't make friends? What if she’s not strong enough?) Worries plagued her mind incessantly. There were many of her siblings who awoke alongside her- yet none were as eager to converse as her dream had suggested to her. Which, again, fine by her- but a new experience none the less.Really, the entirety of Awakening is so...real. So physical in a way the Dream never was. The first two days of life were filled with meetings with Menders; checkups and getting clothing and getting fed. Being fussed over like a small animal. She did not like it, not one bit. The times between that she was listening to Malomedes, or another Night mentor, educating them about the history of the Grove. That was much more enjoyable, by far. 

On the third day of life, they are awoken a couple hours before the setting sun - far earlier than Acahdia is used to getting up at this point in her short existence. The Mentor - Netreuax (Or Reu, as they assured the saplings could call them as their name might be difficult to pronounce) - woke them with the gentleness of a butterfly’s kiss. 

“I know it's early, blossoms of Night,” They address the ten of them, newly awakened saplings, “But today is a special occasion! Today you will get to meet The Pale Mother in person!”

A flutter of whispers goes through the room, saplings that bonded already leaning over to express their surprise.

Acahdia just looks up at Reu with wide eyes and interest. _“The Pale tree?”_

“That's correct. Now come on everyone, up to your feet! It's a little chilly tonight, so I would suggest you bring a longer covering today.”

Acahdia sits a little longer, rubbing her tired eyes as the others slowly rouse from their beds and hammocks, gathering leafy clothes or growing them carefully on their bodies. Excited, quiet chatter hums in the room. (“I wonder what she’s like?” “I’m sure she’s beautiful! I heard her in my Dream, she’s so lovely.”) The frail white sylvari listens for a time.

Nothing like the other cycles, she concludes. It's so quiet in here, compared to the memories of the other cycles in her Dream. (She wonders if those were reflections of reality, or simply lessons she had to learn. Not that it matters- the memory of her dream flutters in and out like the tide, unwilling to linger long enough for it to matter.)

(its fine. It's only been three days, after all, and she’s still tired. It's too early to be awake.)

One of her siblings whose name she cant remember ushers her to her feet- “ _Come on, sister- we have to go! No time to be spacing out right now.”_ The dark blue sylvari wraps a leafy shawl around her shoulders. Another sapling with deep purple bark hooks her arm with hers and guides her along. The whispering continues as they leave the Nursery, walking towards the large seed pod that would bring them up to the pale tree. 

Netreuax stops them just before the seed-pod, clasping their hands together, eyes alight with eagerness. “Alright saplings. This is a very exciting occasion, I know- but you all need to be on your very best behavior. If you have a question for Mother, raise your hand. And please don’t be whispering to each other during this! I know it will be tempting to, but we want to give Mother our utmost respect.”

The gaggle of Nightblooms nod- some more enthusiastically than others- coupled with a few “yes Mentor!”s chiming up from the small group. With the agreement from the Saplings, Netreuax guides them in groups of threes into the seed-pod to ascend up to the Pale Tree’s chambers. 

Acahdia is amongst the last to ascend, with Netreuax and one other grey sapling with her. Anxiety tumbles in her stomach. What will Mother think of her? She is nothing like her siblings- pale and unsure compared to her dark and sneaky and confidant compatriarts. 

Her worries are interrupted by Netreuax nudging her and the other onto the solid landing. 

Suppose its less interrupted, and more increased. Her nerves shoot up into her mouth, her tongue feeling numb and too big for her mouth. She pulls her shoulders back, and droops her head forward to let her impossible amount of fronds fall around her like a shield. She faintly hears Reu chuckle as they lead the two saplings to sit down with the others. 

Acahdia is thankful she is close to the back. 

When the Pale Mother comes into view, its through a beam of fading sunlight that shines through the canopy of her leaves, shining down on a perfect circle in a crest of branches and roots. Acahdia can’t help but stare. The Pale Mother is ethereal, something that is both beautiful yet sends a shot of anxiety through the stomach at once. Her pale green petals frame even paler yellow fronds, a bright pale golden, barely lit glow touching her features. When she opens her eyes, Acahdia wants to vomit with the amount of nervousness in her stomach, and when Mother smiles- she nearly does.

_“Hello my children.”_ She says with such love and adoration. Her voice is soft like honey, gentle like the sound of an early morning bird, _“Welcome to Tyria, I am so glad to see you all here.”_

Acahdia’s stomach flies up to attempt to fall out of her mouth. She keeps her lips tightly shut as her siblings let out a series of excited whispers paired with a few “Hello Mother!”s. 

The Pale Mother lets out a laugh, its soft and loving. _“I am so happy to meet all of you in person! I am so excited to what you are all going to be. I want to impart you some words of wisdom- Tyria is an ever changing place,”_ She begins, eyes drifting over all the faces. _“But, my Dear Hearts, do not fear it. Remember the tenants of Ventari, but also remember you have strength far beyond what you will ever know. Tyria will test you, and it's up to you how to respond...and know, my Dearest Hearts, I am always here for you should you ever need reprieve. If you ever need a moment of peace, I am here.”_

* * *

  


Descending down from the Omphalos Chamber, the Saplings scatter to their own little groups, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. Acahdia is left on her own, and drifts away from the quiet conversation and noise of the Grove. It occurs to her that she has no idea how to navigate this place, her home. She’s never been here. She knows her Dream took place in the Grove, and she has memories of places within, but the layout...She looks around, lips twisting into a frown as she finds herself both separated from her siblings and with her mentor nowhere in sight. She slows almost to a stop, before something hard and solid runs into her, eliciting a startled gasp. She stumbles away, looking on with wide eyes.

It's another sylvari.

Well, of course it is. What else would it be?

She is shorter than Acahdia, with bright orange fronds and matching orange bark. She is stout, and her fronds are tied up in a messy ponytail. Her eyes stand out the most- vibrant blue and squinted with frustration, at this moment. 

**“Hey! Sapling- you need to watch where you’re going.”**

Acahdia blinks at her, lips parting to shape a soft sounding _“Oh._ ” She goes quiet again, for a moment. _“S-sorry.”_

The other sylvari stares in response. **“...Say what you’re sorry for.”**

_“...I...am...sorry...I did not see you?”_ She tries, fidgeting with her fronds, cheeks lighting up with embarrassment.

Taelia huffs, irritated. **“No- you mean you’re sorry for bumping into me.”**

_“Oh. Yes.”_

**“Say it.”**

_“I’m...sorry...for bumping into you?”_

The warden and the sapling stare at each other for some time, before Taelia scoffs and laughs, clapping Acahdia on the shoulder. **“Mothers boughs! You’re cute. How old are you?”**

  
_“Three days.”_

**“Oh my GOSH.”** She gasps. **“A literal baby. Okay, c’mon, you probably have no idea where you’re going.”**

_“Um. No.”_ Acahdia wrings her fronds, as if that will assist in calming her rattled nerves.

**“Cool. I’ll give you a good ol GUIDED TOUR!”** With that, the noon bloom loops her arm around the night bloom’s, and she tugs the sapling along to see the Grove. 

Leading her along, Taelia educates Acahdia first on the top floor. Obviously, in her words, the easiest place to navigate. She points out the training center, insisting Acahdia visit to hone her skills once she’s a little older, and to come visit the chatty noon. The middle floor, the Marketplace, was the more difficult place to navigate- but Taelia aptly assures Acahdia that if she ever gets lost, just ask the wardens! The gaurdsmen dresed in green. She makes sure to FIRMLY EDUCATE her on the differance between wardens and non-wardens- but Acahdia’s attention is drawn to the lower floor. While Taelia chatters about uniform, Acahdia tip toes down the nearest ramp- drawn to the comfortable space she knows is below. 

Walking down into the lowest level, is when she saw **Him**. Her heartwood does a pitter-patter and a skip- his dark fronds flow loose around his face, and are braided lazily down his back. He is tall, imposing- terrifying almost with dark greenish-black bark and black eyes. Like a rotted tree- or perhaps an eerie shadow. But it is not intimidation she feels, or fear. He is perhaps one of the most beautiful people she’s ever seen.

Mind, her knowledge of Beautiful People is rather small. She’s only three days old, after all.

The darker sylvari notices her stare, and a surprisingly sweet smile draws itself upon his sharp-featured face. Its closed mouthed, and one given to gentle little saplings such as herself- to assure safety. 

**_“Why hello there, Sapling. Aren't you a pretty thing.”_ **

A heated blush rises to her cheeks, lighting up most of her face in a white glow that makes her finer features disappear. She shies further behind her fronds, yet her shoulders stay straight. She finds sudden interest in her fingers, how pointed and spindly they are. 

(She remembers the gentleness they can bring, but also the pain. She knows she can do dangerous things with these hands.)

The stranger steps closer, a hand lifting tentatively to touch her cheek- delicate as touching the petals of a flower. She can’t help but flinch at the touch, pale eyes drawing up to his deep, dark ones.

**_“You look lost, young one. May I assist you? Guide you?”_ ** His offer is simple, gentle. Combined with the touch it draws a shiver up her spine. Her eyes drop to his lips, watching the way they speak each word. **_“I think I could benefit you.”_ **

_“Could you?”_ She asks soft, still watching his mouth. Watching the words form and shape.

**_“I could. How old are you, little one?”_ **

_“Only a couple days._ ” She replies, a cautious whisper. She pulls her cheek into her mouth to chew on it- A habit she’s already been scolded for.

**_“Ah- so you haven't even left the Grove yet._ ** ” He chuckles softly. **_“Quaint. I could show you, beyond the walls.”_ **

There's a sinister flutter in her stomach. Of anxiety, familiarity? She’s been in this situation before- beat for beat. But her memory, for now, fails her. So new to the world that her Dream still is in scattered pieces. 

_“I think I might like that.”_

His smile broadens, the peeking of sharp pointed teeth behind those soft looking lips. 

**_“Then its a da-”_ **

He doesnt get to finish his sentence, Taelia sweeping in to shove Acahdia back, sword and shield drawn. **“You! Courtier!”** She spits, hate and bile in her echo and voice. 

(Come to think of it, Acahdia doesn't remember the kind man having an echo. She can hardly feel it now.)

The man takes a step away from Taelia and her weapons, looking upon her as if she were the rudest creature in all existence. 

**_“Me? A courtier? Quite the accusation, young warden.”_ ** His tone suggests his offence akin to his expression. He puts a hand to his chest, over his heartwood- wounded.

Taelia scoffs. **“I’m not fooled by your guise. Begone from the Grove!”**

**_“Does the Wardens eject the soundless from under Mother’s Boughs now?”_ ** He asks, the question pointed. It makes Taelia stop for a moment, before she regains her resolve.

**“Begone.”** She seethes, **“I see through your lies. Go! Begone from this place!”**

The man stares for a long while, keeping his eye contact on Taelia, waiting for her to falter. But then he shifts- dark eyes moving to Acahdia, his expression softening.

**_Find me on the Hill just before the spire, little one._ **His voice is so quiet, she’s sure he doesn't even speak. Her eyes watch how his lips move, memorizing the words. She gives a shy dip of her chin in acknowledgement. 

And just like that, the man is gone. 

Taelia, after a moments silence, whips around after sheathing her weapons, gripping Acahdia’s arm with firmness. 

**“Do not EVER socialize with the Nightmare court, Dia! I know you are a sapling but you NEED to be careful of who you talk to! Not everyone is kind or safe.”**

Acahdia draws her face back, flinching at the harshness. (Wisps of Dawn churn in her head. Taelia is right.) _“..I’m sorry.”_ She murmurs. _“...w-what is the Nightmare Court?”_ She asks, soft, a tone of fear in her voice.

Taelia takes in a breath, and loosens her grip. **“...They’re a sect of our people who have ...twisted and corrupted the Dream. They believe Ventari’s Tenants a lie.”** She spits with disgust, and guides Acahdia away from the dark corner they’d found themselves in. (How did she get this far away? She doesn't remember.) **“They seek to corrupt the Dream, to corrupt Mother.”**

_“Why?”_

**“I won’t pretend t0 know why they got as far as they did, or why they think the way they do. You can’t question insanity.”**

_“..Can they come back? From the nightmare?”_ Her voice is small.

**“No.”** Taelia huffs. **“It's...an affliction they have to live with.”**

_“...Oh.”_

**“..Yeah.”**

The two walk in silence for a time, before Taelia claps Acahdia on her back, nearly sending the frail sylvari stumbling.

**“Cmon little sister! Let us not dwell on such foul thoughts. I am sure dinner is ready, and it's time you ate a proper feast!”**

Acahdia bites her lip, to hide a face of displeasure. Noon was so loud. But how could she refuse her big sister? Especially when her powerful arm looped around her gave her no option of escape.


End file.
